The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1887-06-17

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was quite content when it had gone.
Then there was the sea. He and his
little sister spent half their time
down on the sand beach, watching that
great world of waves, with nothing be
yond save the sky which lovingly
touched it in the dim distance, and the
hlte sails of the passing ships. Every
morning for many and many long
day. his mother came down to the
beach with HIM and little May, anG sat
watching the tide coming III or gong
out.
Mother" he often asked. " where is
father9o"
But she always gave the same
answer.
He is on the sea-, my child, attend
ing to all the people that may be i'll on
large ship in which he is, and he tries
to make them WE'LL
"And what are you saying to the sea,
mother?' he asked one day. She turn
ed and answered him as if he had been
a man rather than wee child
Il do not quite know. my darling. l
am sending a prayer out with the tide,
! think. to your father, to come back
again. always fancy that some of
those great waves may travel far away
till they touch his ship, and when the
tide comes back that perhaps they will
bring me some answer or some whisper
ed message from HIM
And so the months went by, and then
suddenly some terrible news came, that
made his mother wiring her hands and
rock to and fro in an agony of sorrow.
Don't cry, mother" he said climb
ing into her lap; come down to the
shore and watch for father" But she
only sobbed the more, and cried
"Oh! my child, my poor child, we
shall never watch for him more He
is drowned and gone forever"
Did you see him?" he asked, child
ishly; "were you on the shore?"
mo, darling, he was far away
much farther than we can see-and he
is drowned. and lying in the great sea
forever" she wept
Then he knew that there was
great sea-wOrld beyond his sight, and
that somewhere in it his father was "
ing dead, and so the chiId's face grew
grave, and his eyes always seemed to
be looking much further away than
even the great hills themselves could
see. The fisher-folk and the people
scattered in the houses on the hills
around were very good to Alice in her
sorrow, but they could not provide for
her and her children, and when a letter
came from her mother, kind enough
now, begging her to come back to The
West Indian Islands, they tried to per-
suade her to 60. But she refused; she
could not accept what had been denied
to her husband, and though money was
enclosed it was long before she could
bring herself to spend 8 SHILLING of it
She preferred even the charity of the
isher-folk. So letter after letter came,
but at last there was one she could not
resist
Remember It it your own mother
you are steeling your heart agaislst, "
mrs. Brandleth wrote, sand feel for
your sorrow as ii it were my own. for
your father died before you can even
remember. | am getting too old to
travel alone. bat must 60 to you if you
viii not come to me. y
Then she broke up the little home
the home in which, in spite OF poverty,
she had been very happy in days gone
by, and in which her children had been
born--and went to her mother. But
she could not stay there, and SO after a
few years Mrs. Brandleth put the sugar
plantations under the care of an agent
and once more Alice Trevor came to
England to live in small e,<antry
town. ~
Ill.
Tenyears from the time whenAlice left
UrAyJon- -on-cea, anu the sun snone no
longer down on little fishing village,
but on a growing place Of fashionable
resort. The houses which dotted the
hills were closer together. and ut their
feet there stretched terraces and
streets, and on the once lonely shore
were the marks Of many footsteps on
the sand. and rows Of boats for hire,
and sailors hanging about seeking for
idlers who would sail beneath the sum